Sparkle
by Nini Black
Summary: Kurt has the perfect plan to get back at Principal Figgins for telling him what not to wear.


**Notes**: Written for a fic challenge at morethan4sides on livejournal.

"I cannot believe I'm being _censored_," Kurt said, slamming his locker shut for emphasis.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. She'd heard this rant four times now and was no longer expressing the proper amount of sympathy that he felt a best friend should offer. He narrowed his eyes at her before turning to Tina, who patted his arm and nodded sadly.

"I know how you feel. It's like last year, when Figgins told me I couldn't wear anything goth anymore."

It was kind of like that. If you wanted to compare cheap fishnet from Hot Topic to an _amazing_ sheer top from Burberry Prorsum. Not a comparison Kurt would make on a normal day, but today wasn't exactly normal. He'd had to wear the extra outfit he usually kept in his locker (in case he got slushied) earlier that week and had forgotten to replace it. Because of this, he'd been forced to borrow a shirt from Finn when his own had been deemed "inappropriate for the classroom". He was now Property of McKinley Titans XL.

He would wish for some fashion god to kill him wear he stood, but then he would die wearing a tee shirt that was three sizes too big and that might or might not be clean. He hadn't done anything to deserve that.

"How did you get him to back off on that anyway?" Mercedes asked.

Tina's expression turned absolutely devious. "I might have _suggested_ that he didn't want to anger my father. You know, the king of the Asian vampires."

Kurt stared at her. "You're kidding."

Tina smirked.

"Is that why he ducks into an empty classroom whenever he sees you in the hallway?"

"He _might_ think I'm a creature of the night."

"Girl, that's genius," Mercedes told her, laughing.

Kurt's grin at the thought of Figgins cowering in fear in front of Tina was short lived. "That still doesn't solve my problem."

"It was kind of chilly for that shirt anyway," Mercedes pointed out.

"You're wearing _fur_."

"Faux fur. And fur is in this season, honey."

"Not when it's _yellow._"

Tina cut in before this could devolve into another of their arguments over the appropriate use of color in ones wardrobe. "What if you did the same thing?"

"Wore fur?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Tina shook her head. "Convinced Figgins you were a vampire so he'd let you wear whatever you wanted."

Mercedes started laughing again. "You're pale enough, that's for sure."

Kurt tilted his head in thought. "You know, Tina, you might just be a genius."

Tina smirked again.

* * *

According to Kurt's hasty internet research on vampire fashion (he'd never really been interested in them before), he just needed to add a cape, pointy teeth, and glitter to Victorian influenced outfits he already owned. It seemed too easy.

The cape was easy to come by; he already had one. Tina promised to bring him pointy teeth if he promised not to ask where she'd gotten them. Body glitter was more difficult, since contrary to popular opinion at McKinley High he did not, in fact, own a wide variety of make-up.

"Why do you need glitter?" Mercedes asked when he called her that night.

"Vampires sparkle. I looked it up."

Kurt was really getting sick of her laughing at him today.

"I'll bring you some in the morning," she finally promised through her laughter.

* * *

He got called into Principal Figgins office during third period. Tina was in that class with him and gave him two thumbs up as he swept from the room, cape whipping behind him.

Figgins looked even more unimpressed with today's outfit than he had been with yesterday's sheer top. "Mister Hummel."

"Is there a problem, Principal Figgins?" Kurt asked, smiling at him.

"Yes, there is. Yesterday you were in clear violation of the dress code and today, today you have dressed yourself as a…" Figgins squinted at Kurt. Kurt kept smiling. "…as a _goth_."

"Nothing about this outfit violates the dress code," Kurt pointed out. "I checked."

"I cannot have children running around dressed as vampires! One is bad enough!" Figgins pointed a finger at Kurt, who leaned back a bit. "You must find something else to wear, Mister Hummel. This, this _goth_ look will not be tolerated here at McKinley."

Kurt crossed his arms. "Tina dresses like this every day. And I'm well within the guidelines of the school dress code. I'm covered from head to foot in fabric. You can barely see any skin."

Figgins frowned at him, then his eyes widened. He moved to the side a bit, staring at Kurt intently. "You… you are _sparkling_."

"…Yes."

Figgins' eyes were wider than Miss Pillsbury's, which wasn't something Kurt had thought was possible. For a long moment he just stared a Kurt, wide-eyed, then he shouted—"Back demon!"—made the sign of the cross with his fingers in Kurt's directions, and ducked under his desk.

Kurt sat stunned for a moment, and then peered around the corner of the desk. "Um… Principal Figgins?"

His only answer was a soft whimpering sound.

Oh, now he felt kind of bad. Dammit.

Kurt looked back at where he could see Figgins' shoes poking out from behind the desk. He was going to kill Tina. This was just supposed to make Figgins think he was a vampire and leave him alone so that he could wear whatever he wanted to school, not make the principal cower under his desk because he was afraid Kurt was going to bite his neck and suck him dry.

Kurt sighed. "Um, look, Principal Figgins? I'm not a real vampire, okay? Really. You can come out now. I'm not going to hurt you or anything."

Nothing.

"Really I'm not. I just dressed like one today."

Finally, Figgins' muffled voice came from under the desk. "You're sparkling. That's means you're a real vampire. I did research! I know what vampires look like!"

"I'm not really sparkling though," Kurt insisted. "It's just glitter. It comes off, see?" He grabbed a tissue off of Figgins' desk, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he licked at it before swiping it across the back of his hand to remove the body glitter there.

Not a single spec of glitter came off. Kurt frowned at the tissue, licked it again, and scrubbed the back of his hand furiously. Nothing. What the hell kind of mutant body glitter had Mercedes given him? He'd covered his entire body in this stuff! What if he sparkled for the rest of his life? The only way he'd pull that look off was if he went to live in a dance club. As much fun as that sounded, he had a feeling that if he tried it, his dad would come looking for him and it would turn into one of those awkward stories that did _not_ get funnier with time.

Figgins had risen up onto his knees to watch curiously. Now he was pointing at Kurt again. "Ha! I knew it! You are a demon! Demon!"

"No, I'm not!" Kurt yelled, waving his arms around frantically.

Figgins squeaked in terror as that made Kurt's cape flap behind him like wings and ducked back under his desk. Kurt sank back into the chair and banged his head down against the top of the desk as Figgins started praying.

Kurt decided to try again, taking out the pointy teeth that had been making talking difficult all morning. "Principal Figgins? Look, my teeth aren't real either. I've taken them out, see?"

Figgins peered over the edge of the desk, eyeing the teeth in Kurt's hand warily. Kurt smiled at him to show off his own, perfectly normal teeth.

"I am on to you, Mister Hummel. You're trying to trick me into believing that you are not a vampire, but it won't work! Miss Cohen-Chang has turned you into one of them." His eyes widened. "How many more of you has she turned? Is the entire glee club made up of singing undead?"

"Tina hasn't 'turned' any of us, honest," Kurt said, standing up. "I'm not—"

He stopped in shock as Figgins flung a cupful of water at his face.

Well, at least it wasn't a slushie. He would never live down being slushied by the principal.

"What are you…" he reached up, swiping water out of his eyes.

"Holy water," Figgins explained. "You should be burning now."

Kurt opened his eyes and leveled a glare at the man. "Obviously, I'm not burning. I'm just wet."

Figgins looked down at his empty cup, confused. "Why didn't it work? Vampires always run screaming when you throw holy water on them."

"Not this vampire," Kurt told him. "This vampire just gets annoyed."

Figgins was looking scared again and reaching for the top drawer of his desk. Kurt wasn't sure he wanted to find out what Figgins was planning on flinging at him next. "Look," he said, thinking fast. "You've figured me out. I am a vampire."

Figgins stepped back against the wall, crossing his fingers at Kurt again. Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that doesn't work. Neither does the holy water. How about a deal?"

"A deal with the devil? Never."

Kurt sighed in annoyance. "No, a deal with me. I'm not the devil. Just… a vampire. But I'm a nice vampire. So, if you promise to let me wear whatever I want to school from now on, I'll… teach you how to defend yourself against the not-so-nice vampires. Like Tina. She's a very mean vampire." Another thought occurred to Kurt. "And you can't give me detention or try to expel me anymore if I yell at the teachers. Sometimes I just start craving blood and have to yell to relieve tension so that I won't bite anyone. I really can't help it."

Figgins seemed to be considering his deal. "You'll show me how to keep Miss Cohen-Chang from coming after me?"

"Yep."

After a moment of gathering up his courage, Figgins nodded and took the hand Kurt had held out. "Alright, Mister Hummel. Deal."

As Kurt left Figgins office later, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. He had a piece of paper signed by the principal saying he was exempt from the school dress code (and oh, the opportunities _that_ opened up) and had gotten out of half his classes because he'd been teaching Figgins how to properly identify and protect himself from vampires. It had all been complete bullshit, but the principal had bought it hook, line, and sinker.

Kurt did feel a little bit bad for telling him that yes, his daughter's glittery make-up was her way of telling vampires that she wanted to become one of them. On the other hand, he was, in a roundabout way, teaching that girl about less being more when it came to glitter. A valuable lesson for which that she should be thanking him.

And one that he would not admit to not having learned himself. He'd been scrubbing at this damn glitter for five minutes now and _nothing _was working. He was going to kill Mercedes.


End file.
